


A Night in Hightown

by easybakedoodles (Madrugada98)



Series: Tristan Amell: Bound to Fall Again [3]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 09:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13431747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madrugada98/pseuds/easybakedoodles
Summary: Tristan and Anders are called upon by Carver to help out with a strange letter he received at the estate. It may be Tristan's last journey to Hightown for a while.





	A Night in Hightown

     “He really lives up here in all this pomp?” Tristan asked, trying to imagine his emotionally stunted cousin living amongst the high standard nobles of Kirkwall. Carver and Bethany were fairly average at least, however Lewis Hawke, a mage and known maleficar at this point, also lived with them in their estate. Looking upon the grand townhouse, the thought just confused him while he, Anders, and Carver waited on the last member of their little party to join them.

     “Of course, where else would he live?” Carver answered, one part honest, and at least two parts annoyed about it. Tristan had to concede that he had a point. Lewis wasn’t exactly one who was able to hold onto a steady income. Or be able to get one in the first place. Or even look for one. Regardless, the point was that being a very angry maleficar was not a very profitable life to live, or a very acceptable one for that matter. Tristan could only imagine the hardships Carver and Bethany went through in order to keep their brother’s habits a secret from their mother, much less the rest of Kirkwall.

     “Y’know, he reminds me of someone but I just can’t put my finger on it,” Anders said, looking to Tristan with his hand stroking his newly grown goatee. Tristan knew that Anders just hadn’t had the proper time to shave with all of the hubbub going on in the clinic, and training Bethany in healing magics, but Tristan still wished he would just shave it already.

     “Say what darling?” Tristan said, remembering that Anders had addressed him with that statement, but Tristan had already forgotten what he had said.

     “Maybe he just reminds me of Sigrun? They’re both so preoccupied with death,” Anders mused, at which Tristan just snorted.

     “Sigrun? Be that grumpy and gloomy? Never, besides, she may break rules on occasion, but Lewis’ little habit? She’d never go that far,” Tristan said.

     “You have me there, hmm, I’ll have to think about this again,” Anders said, shrugging his shoulders.

     “Can you two stop talking about people who I’ve never even met? Gets annoying,” Carver barked, crossing his arms.

     “Sorry lil’ Hawke. I know it can be hard to imagine that we have had lives in which we met other people before we met you,” Tristan said, lightly punching his cousin on the arm.

     “Oh shut up, Hero. And smarten up, our dwarf is here,” Carver said as he shrugged him off.

     “Apologies for my tardiness gentlemen, you know how those stairs go with these legs of mine,” Varric joked, Bianca slung on his back.

     “Can we go now? The letter said to meet in Hightown at midnight but not where, so I figure we just wander a bit and see where our new ‘friends’ may be. Besides, I’d rather not have a brawl out in front of the estate where it might wake Mother” Carver said, already alert for any sort of trap.

     “Normally your momma’s boy tendencies worry me but this time, I think I’m actually glad for it,” Anders said as they turned the corner.

     “Not eager to incur my aunt’s wrath again are you? Imagine if she found out you didn’t eat yesterday because there were so many patients in the clinic,” Tristan teased, wiggling his fingers at Anders. Anders just slapped his hands away and laughed at Tristan’s antics.

     “You came,” A surprised voice called out to their group, causing them all to turn.

     “Who are you?” Carver asked as the woman approached. She was dressed head to toe in Templar regalia, doing nothing to set Anders or Tristan’s nerves at ease.

     “You probably thought you got away with it, Ser Karras and the others deaths. Do you even remember them? They were searching for the missing Starkhaven apostates and were murdered. An inquiry determined that the apostates must have killed the templars, but I’ve suspected for years that Ser Thrask and you were responsible,” She said pointing accusingly in their direction. Carver had a look of recognition on his face at the name, and paused before answering.

     “So you’re here to beat a confession out of me?” he asked, squaring his shoulders.

     “I don’t need a confession,” she said sadly before calling out to the squad of templars behind her “My brothers, tonight, justice will be done,” she said, as they all began to draw their swords.

     In retaliation, Varric and Carver drew their weapons from their backs as Tristan and Anders began to cast. Carver dove into the fray, trying to push back as many of the templars as he could, away from the two wardens. Varric, sticking as many bolts in them as he could, aiming for the spots where their armor didn’t cover. Tristan remained close to Anders, knowing that even if the templars managed to cast a Silence on the both of them, that he could still protect Anders with his shortswords. In the meantime though, they both were casting frost spell after frost spell trying to keep the templars distracted and immobile.

     The spells were working for the most part, the ice freezing them to the ground and making it easier for Carver’s broadsword and Bianca’s bolts to hit their marks. However, in the commotion of all the templars beginning to surround Carver, and his pained grunts as some of them landed hits on him, the woman who originally spoke to them had snuck up on the two mages. With a shouted casting of Silence, Tristan and Anders’ spells flickered and went out from around them, the magic keeping Tristan’s rock armor around him fell and puddled around his feet. Fear gripping his heart, Tristan drew one of his swords and used his staff arm to push Anders behind him.

     “The Maker shalt not suffer apostates to roam free!” she screamed as she thrust her sword at Tristan, managing to drive it in the space between his chestplate and shoulder armor. Tristan roared in pain accidentally dropping his staff to grab at the wound, none of his minimal healing skills coming to life like he wanted them to. It took all of his concentration to bring his weapon back up to defend from her next blow. Still favoring his wounded arm he used two hands to wield the sword, defending and attempting to fight her off.

     Without either noticing, Anders had managed to scramble back far enough to snatch a sword from a fallen templar. Using his slender statue, he wove between pillars in the square to get behind the woman who was currently fighting Tristan. She wore the lighter version of the templar garb, meaning that rather than plate armor on her back, it was thickened leather. While it was tough, not unpierceable, as Anders found out for himself as he drove the stolen sword right in the middle of her back. She slumped with a death scream and Anders felt his magic return to him as he rushed to Tristan and his wounded shoulder. Casting a quick spell to numb the area, Anders shot a quick look back to where their companions still fought.

     Carver, lagging with exertion, and Varric who was hurriedly loading Bianca again as the final templars moved in on the youngest Hawke again. Anders fired off a Haste spell for Carver, at which he visibly perked and attacked the last three templars with new vigor. Varric nor Carver looked extremely hurt and so Anders returned his attention to Tristan. After the battle was done, Carver and Varric hurried over to find Anders trying to knit the muscles in Tristan’s shoulder back together again. Tristan had passed out sometime during all of this, only to groan as Carver hurriedly threw him over his shoulder. Anders snagged Tristan’s forgotten sword and staff and then the four of them went to the back entrance of the Amell Estate and down into the basement to the Darktown exit next to the clinic.

     Anders hurried his three companions inside and began to heal the small cuts and bruises that Varric and Carver had received while they waited for Tristan to reawaken.

     “Junior, can we agree to some more thoughtful screening of strange offers requiring us to meet people in dark corners late at night?” Varric joked, to which Carver only bristled as Anders waved his hands over the deepest of his cuts.

     “Still better to take care of plotting nobles rather than let them figure out how to collaborate,” Tristan said, groaning as he sat up. Anders hurried to his side, having finished with Carver’s wounds, and began checking him over again.

     “Though it still may be awhile before I dare venturing back up to Hightown and all that pomp,” Tristan joked, winking at Carver as the younger Hawke/Amell only rolled his eyes in response.


End file.
